A Fairytale Nightmare
by Chicklepea
Summary: Hermione has a horrific and rather weird nightmare where Fred Weasley is her ‘saviour’ When she wakes up, however, things only seem to get worse…


_Disclaimer: _This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**A Fairytale Nightmare**

The tall can of polish was cool against my palm; that I remember clearly. Otherwise I felt neither warm nor cold. Which was rather odd, since I was in naught but an overly large pillow case and there was an almightily blizzard blowing in through the open window. But all I cared for was how the snowflakes were marring my perfect floor.

I knew why I was there; it was as though I'd always known. Life had been like this for a long time, and yet it was new to me. My father had married Pansy Parkinson's mother. I don't remember her name; I don't honestly think that I knew it then. She was a cruel woman, whom disliked me for my heritage.

She screamed at me, for the snow upon the floor, and kicked me in my ribs. Although I still felt no pain. She was Mrs. Bidds; my old primary teacher, although then, of course, she was Mrs. Granger sin Parkinson. I never did like Mrs. Bidds; that stuck up cow thought that I was a waste of space and too smart for my own good. I guess I am, but still, I never did like her. I think Pansy Parkinson suits having her as a mum.

In her hand she held three invitations; I noticed that one was addressed to me. She tells me that it is to go to the Malfoy new-year ball. I severely doubt that Malfoy would invite me to his ball, but apparently he did, out of the kindness of his heart. Well, my step mother ripped my ticket up and laughed an evil cackle that you only see in films.

Well, they made me help them in their dresses. Oh, sorry, Pansy was there too, not at first, but later, as though she'd been there all along. That happens a lot you'll find. They then left to go to the party; I was awfully sad to see them go. Not that I know why of course; personally I don't know why I wanted to go to the stupid party so much, but I did.

And that was when Harry and Ron appeared: out of thin air as it were. Harry was dressed in smart black velvet dress robes that sparkled with hundreds of silver moons and stars, whereas Ron wore a pink tutu with fairy wings stuck on his back. How I kept a straight face I don't know, but to me this was normal, for they were my fairy god-fathers, and that was how they dressed.

Well, they gave me a lecture on how I was to go to the ball, whist bickering between themselves. I believe I heard Ron complain about his clothing, but I think that was just my conscious voice elaborating on the events. Though I really think he should complain, his legs were certainly not made to go in a skirt.

They transformed my pillowcase into long yellow robes with a ghastly pink bow; I looked like a badly wrapped Christmas present; naturally I loved them. They then conjured a pumpkin and transformed that into a golden sports car. We were outside now, if you're wondering. I haven't a clue how we got there, but we did.

I hopped into the car and greeted the driver. A hook nosed man with black greasy hair, which was hidden by his driving cap. I didn't recognize him, but now I have to wonder why Snape was driving me there. I should have known it would all turn out bad right there and then. But of course he was just my chauffer and I was happy with him.

The party was in full swing when I arrived, never mind the fact that the invitations had only been posted an hour before. I wasn't asked to dance once, and Malfoy spent the night dancing away with Pansy Parkinson. You know its times like these that I hate being an un-conformist. If I were anyone else I'd be dancing with Malfoy, not that I like him or anything, it's just a lot less confusing that way, since I can merely pass myself off as clinically insane.

I remember the popcorn garlands hanging on the walls, and the strange party hats even the most civilized of people were wearing. That might be why no one would dance with me; I didn't have a party hat. The garlands were really nice; I tried one because the other food was plastic and I was hungry.

And then I fell over. Yes, just like that. I fell. And big strong arms wrapped around my waist. The night was looking up; until I saw who it was. Fred Weasley. What was he doing at the party? Well I asked him. Even then it was odd for HIM to be at the party. He was giving out business cards of course. He wasn't wearing a hat either. I noticed that since for one of the twins not to be wearing something outlandish was something to be noticed. I think he was trying to be different.

Fred told me not to drink the eggnog, since its spiked. Fred always makes people drink spiked drinks. Well, anyone except the people he really cares about, not including his brothers who he deems male enough to look after themselves. I was touched that he looked after me so well. And I mean really touched. Like the swooning sort of touched. It was sickening.

We decided to leave because there was no food. It seemed like the best course of action. However when we went out the door we found ourselves in a long dark corridor; I was scared, and naturally clutched to Fred's arms like a damsel in distress. So unlike me. But alas I did. It was embarrassing. Then we saw a puddle of liquid in the middle of the hallway, in the centre of which was a long deadly looking dagger.

I leant forward and sniffed it. It smelled like tomatoes. I told Fred, but he didn't believe me. So I dipped my fingers in and made him taste. He agreed then. We were then told to get out by a raspy voice coming from the walls; I'd have been scared if I wasn't so curious about the tomato sauce. The walls bled more sauce, and a hotdog ran past us barking like crazy. Fred then got panicked, apparently the hotdog was his dog, and so we chased it.

We couldn't run fast, no matter how hard I tried I couldn't go any faster; neither could Fred, and the dog got away. He was rather upset about it. We were outside though, so I didn't care too much. I didn't tell him though.

Fireworks were bursting everywhere; I was suddenly nervous, like I knew what was going to happen. Then Fred pulled a piece of mistletoe out of his pocket and held it over my head. He told me he just found it; it wasn't there before. I don't know why I did it, but I kissed him, as though I'd done it a million times before. Our lips never met, for at that precise moment my face became ice cold and I was jolted out of slumber to see the exact same face whom in my weirdo dream I'd just been about to kiss.

I screamed. And I screamed. I threw my crimson pillow at them. Screamed some more. Then I flew at them with my fists until they got out my room. I was now wet, cold and unimpressed. I mean, what idiot wakes someone up with a handful of snow to the face?

Ginny came in laughing, so I screamed at her too. I hate them all sometimes. 

Anyway, we went sledging, all of us. Fred included. I felt strange around him, still do now in fact, which I why I am here talking to you. Anyway, we went down in twos. It was scary. I have never been so petrified in my life. It isn't like the rollercoaster petrified where you scream but you are ok, no, this is the kind where you know, and you will fall off. And it will hurt. And your bum will be numb. 

I went down with Fred. It was our turn. I don't know why, but I wasn't scared. Maybe it was because he looked after me in my dream, or may be just held me tighter than anyone else, or maybe I was just so bruised and battered that I didn't care anymore, but I wasn't scared. Well, we fell off at the end. Fred fell on top of me and I cut my arm on a rusty nail in the snow. Fred fixed it for me. I didn't know he could do healing spells, but apparently he does them on his brother all the time. It makes sense when you think about it. Well, it's about the only thing that makes sense at the moment anyway.

The way his eyes suddenly seem browner now and how his hair seems richer and shinier. How his smile isn't annoying or scary anymore; it just makes me want to smile too, even worse, it makes me want to giggle. I can suddenly see his muscles, the stubble on his top lip. The dimple in his cheek. Lord help me!

And then you won't believe what he did next. He pulls this piece of mistletoe out of his pocket and grins at me like a mad man. Just like in my dream. It was awful, and I wanted to kiss him. But I couldn't; I mean, its Fred Weasley. So I ran away. I got a broom from the shed and ran away.

And that's why I flew back to school in the middle of Christmas break. And that's the reason I'm sat in your office, wet, cold and slightly homicidal. So: I'm sorry for giving the first year a tail, and I'm sorry for exorcising Peeves, and I'm really sorry for suddenly becoming a secret admirer to Frederic Weasley. And Professor Dumbledore? I'm sorry for turning you into a teacup.

_A/N. Take this as you will. _

_Hermione is dreaming in the first half, and maybe the second half; that is entirely up to you… I have tried to include parts of her personality and upbringing in this, hence how in her dreams her muggle upbringing and magical world are clashing. Dreams don't make sense unless you are dreaming, during which time they make perfect sense. _


End file.
